I’d wandered the beach for quite some time after my dream, enjoying the sunset, and it was a good one, a large, dark orange oval that when it started to merge with the horizon, it spread all the way across it. Wow!

 

The smoke had mellowed me out by that time and the Crown just added to the after-burn.  No, I don’t indulge like I used to, back - as they say ‘in the day,’ for if I did… hmm…. Yeah, I used to be pretty much an ‘every’ – day/night – guy, but, hell, it was fuel for my lifestyle or vice versa… and yes I ran on all cylinders most every day – and ‘loved’ it. Wouldn’t of had it any other way and my friends would of thought me ‘ill’ if I wasn’t on the move, checking out things you know … like women and women.  Geez…. Without women in this world I would have become a hermit on a mountain top before turning 21…. And No! I wouldn’t have been better off, and any man, or perhaps woman now-days, yes, who would laugh and tell you that they would have been better off without women…. Would just be ‘stone-blooded’ lying to you.

 

Sitting here at my desk playing this keyboard like a musical instrument listening to “Shotgun,” by Junior Walker and the All Stars,” has me cranked up –like my stereo - or maybe I’ve got myself cranked up and the music is just, yeah, ‘adding to the after-burn… you call it – in the air though.

 

Yeah, right.  Like - I don’t have a shot-glass of Crown on this desk with smoke sneaking ‘all around,’ trying to curl its way into the alcohol.  Like I said, ‘wouldn’t have it any other way.’

 

“Shake you Down, by Gregory Abbot,” has just started playing….Wow! …below are some of its lyrics, although they do not do the song justice.

 

Girl, I’ve been watching you

From so far across the floor’ now baby

That’s nothing new

I’ve watched you so many times before now baby

I see that look in your eyes

And what it’s telling me

 

And you know girl that I’m not shy

I’m glad you picked up on my telepathy now baby

 

Yeah, I feel good… it’s a good day, cepting Pup is not feeling real good, but I’m hoping she kicks out of it when her daughter and grand-daughter gets here, which means I’ve only about another hour on this ‘glow-stuff’ before I have to ‘hide it,’ shit, I hid it from parents, children, and grand-parents back in the day, but now I’m having to hide it from ‘parents, children, and now grand-kids, geez…. Replaced one generation with another didn't I?

 

I love drifting in and out of here, to the land of ‘nowhere man,’ what a gas, wish it was real.  Several of you commented about the lack of clothing in that faraway place, hmm…. I’ve never been shy, and social structures have always seemed to get in my way, but for the most part I’ve kept it in line, for the most part.  …

 

anywho ---- as “Lookingforlucy” says, “you don’t need clothes in heaven.”  Tell me that’s wrong?  Hey! Grab a hold, let’s go to the land of the ‘nowhere man,’ yes?

 

It’s night; right after that beautiful sunset I was talking about at the beginning of this article, remember?  The street we are on is wide, no cars, no trucks, just people….  People walking, and yes, most of them are without clothes, and so what?  What’s wrong with not hiding behind ‘puffed out clothes,’ not a thing Clyde, but then again when it’s cold – give me clothes man, heavy coats and all that stuff, but heck, it ain’t cold on this street-is it?  Heavily lit bars and clubs line both sides of the street, and music blares from within all of them, and for a moment I think I’m in New Orleans, but, no, this isn’t N.O., this is more like heaven, than anything.  Or, at least what one like me might envision heaven to be like.  I soak the music up, and a ‘skip’ develops in my already lively step; the night is young as they say, and ‘hot damn,’ you don’t say?

 

Suddenly I get an opposite remembrance, of another city, this one in Europe, yeah, it’s Nuremberg, Germany, and the street is narrow, the buildings on both sides, dark and reclusive, and I’m driving my VW like it’s a race car, while the music in the car is blaring, and she’s looking at me, and me her.

 

We’re headed for a party in Furth, and naturally I’ve caused us to be somewhat late, though it’d been worth it.  The dinner at the little Italian Restaurant had been fantastic and with the weather ‘mild’ this time of the year, we’d sat outside at a little table, and watched people walk by on the lightly traveled sidewalk in front of us.  “Glorious.”

 

“You ever wondered,” she said, in her slightly tinted German accent, “what’s on the other side?”  I’ve known Vera for 8 months, and we’ve had many the philosophical conversations, but it had always amazed me how she could start one in almost any situation.  “Are you thinking my driving might get us to the other side quicker than you want?”  She laughs, and lights the joint I’d given her a few minutes ago, and through the smoke, I see the ‘grimace’ just before the smile as she exhales.

 

“D, you know I don’t worry about what I can’t control,” which was correct, for she had the uncanny ability to shrug off worries that would give ulcers to some.  “Well, you know I do, (think about what's on the other side) so I only wonder why you’d ask a question you knew the answer to?”  “Because I was just thinking as I was watching you drive, that if you’re lucky and live to be 90 you probably won’t change much.”

 

This provokes a gentle laugh from me, and with a shrug I move the thought out of my mind.    Who in hell wants to think about being 90 years old anyway?  “So, I say with a smile, what’s that got to do with the other side?”  “Nothing, she says, absent mindfully, as she looks out her window, “it’s just that I saw a falling star the other night, and I want to think that whenever you see one – you’ll always think of me.”

 

And, you know what? 

 

I always think of Vera when I see a falling star.

 

 

How I’d gotten here, to this place of 'The Nowhere Man' was a mystery to me.  It had started with a tape recorder in a box outside my door earlier in the morning.  I’d turned it (the tape recorder) on feeling slightly stupid for doing so, but now as I was walking through the forest I couldn’t help but notice how lush and green everything was; even the tree bark looked green or maybe that was just moss from the dampness caused by the waterfalls.

 

For ‘Waterfalls’ were everywhere, and their misty spray rode piggyback on the air molecules, it seemed.  The singing of the birds I heard next, then colors were unveiled, blue, red, yellow, green and white I saw; some swishing through the air, others motionless on tree limbs, but all singing, or chirping, a strangely familiar tune.  And as I tried to place it, these words came to mind; ‘we skipped the light fandango turned cartwheels ‘cross the floor.’

 

But, I had no time, as I was soon leaving the forest and moving uphill toward a large city that brought to mind the old actor who became President, who always talked of “a shining city on a hill.” I was on a road that although ‘paved’ seemed much smoother than any I’d ever traveled, and when as I expected, they diverged, I was sorry I couldn’t travel both, and though long I stood, I kept the first for another day, and took the other, toward the city on the hill. Along the way I noticed to my left a yellow wooded area, and I could see the other road darting into it; whispering ‘bye’ I continued my uphill trek.

 

Suddenly I came upon a small group of people, of which, none had a stitch upon their backs, and a' laughing as they passed me by; as I stood in some sort of amazement.

 

Further up the road, I saw a man standing by a crik, with a guitar, and he was playing a marvelous tune, and a smiling at me. Arriving into the edge of the city, I could see tall majestic buildings in the distance, rising into the airy clouds, while an airplane made lazy figure 8 loops in the air.  More people came into view, and as I steadied my feet on the pavement, I saw that they too, possessed no clothes, and even though I tried to avert my eyes I could not help but pick out the pleasant females with nothing on. 

 

Continuing on I passed a sign that proclaimed the city to be ‘Noisrevni,’ and though I seemed to have heard of it before, it was not with ease that I could put my finger on it.  But all thoughts in that direction fell away, as I stumbled upon a concrete clearing where little children were gathered at the feet of a solid white statue of a naked man, just as they, and also the beautiful woman with them were; she was telling them a story, the words I’d heard before but the story I couldn’t remember.

 

Standing at the edge of this gathering, feeling somewhat conspicuous with clothes and all, I strained to make out the words the woman was saying, but was distracted by an old man walking by who was wearing a white robe, and carrying a sign that said: “The beginning is Near.”

 

Following in his footsteps ‘we’ arrived at a large building what looked like a courthouse or some other public structure.  Looking at the expansive steps leading up, I saw two huge statues guarding each side of a set of glass doors, and upon closer examination I discovered one to be that of a naked man, and the other, a naked woman, both who were frozen in a pose with arms upraised and lips open as if speaking.

 

I watched as the old man carrying the sign entered through the doors, and as I stood undecided at the top step I suddenly heard the words being spoken: “Let nobody without pure love enter these sacred rooms.”

 

Before I could make a wrong decision, the old man turned as he swished through the doors and shouted down to me; “you’re not ready yet sonny boy.”

 

Suddenly in front of my eyes appeared another man, quite younger than my old friend swishing through the doors, and in the ‘whirl’ of the moment, my new young friend smiled and said, ‘follow me.’

 

We traversed back down the steps and moved along quite smartly down the road, which had turned, into a road with bricks, yellow in color, and as smooth as any I’d ever traveled.  A little man, perhaps a midget, naked as the proverbial j-bird, met us going the other way and all I could remember about him {later} was the 4 leaf clover he waved at me as he passed by.

 

My new young friend, did I mention he was nude, was speaking as I tuned into what he was saying;  “noisrevni city was built at the turn of the century and since has reported annual profits of 11 billion per year, population growth of 32 per cent, and zero crime.”

 

But, “hold on,” I finally said, realizing that these were only the 2^nd and third words I’d spoken in what must be the weirdest dream I’d ever experienced. “How can you have zero crime?”

 

“Well, he said, that’s a long story, and we haven’t much time, so I suggest you subscribe to our newspaper, ‘The noisrevni news,’ (a sister edition of ‘The New Residencia’) which will fill in the blanks for you.”

 

“Ok I say, as I open my eyes and look around at my bedroom, the table beside the bed with my empty glass of milk, and the plate with cookie crumbs in it, and wonder if I got my subscription order in – in time?

 

 

Inversion…..  it comes through when I listen to the television, or music, but most of all it comes at night, when all is dark, and quiet. It’s concept.… a complicated piece of pie, but not completely indigestible… just hard to swallow --- at first.  Kinda like “Mad Magazine,” remember?  Upside down world, nothing as it seems.  So “turn it (the world) upside down and what do you have?  The living below and the dead above ...…. for one.

 

That’s inversion.

 

So… throw away all your previously held beliefs and ride the wild horse of inversion, into it’s dark, inky waters.

 

Or quit reading now.

 

Lest you find out that good can be bad, white is black, and often, the sky is brown… like dirt.

 

It’s all around you now, like dusty silt that coats the back of your head, and slides around to cover your eyes from these… words.

 

Do you feel it?

 

Describe to yourself, the feeling as it cloaks you in its magnificent drapery of non-truths, even as you struggle to shake the chains from the cloth?  Can you see muddy snow falling from a dirty sky, and do you begin to drown… in the sea blue sky at your feet?  Be not scared, it’s nothing other than inversion, and it will not harm you… but it will alarm you.

 

For if it’s truly a “Mad, Mad, Mad, World,” and everything is not as everything seems, if white is black, and dark is really light, then dead becomes alive, or vice versa, and good becomes bad. Inversion

 

So instead of being good and alive, we are really bad and dead.  Instead of light being bright, it’s dark, and the darkness spreads its light far and wide, as inversion prevails.

 

Do you remember that first night, lying in each other’s arms?  The way you felt, as you realized that you had it all, but that it would eventually leave you, and you’d learn the definition of emptiness, and think of it when you began to read about inversion? 

 

Think back… in clumps of years, and as you split-apart time… marvel at the many rivers you create from one…. look at yourself in your inverted sense, and let the earth slide around you .… into inversion.

 

Instead of falling down, you’re now flying up, ready to meet life on your terms… finally.  Lessons learned must be tossed away, and impossibilities absorbed as realties… while in the motion of throwing. 

 

 

I turned the machine off, and stared at it.

 

A tape recorder in a box. 

 

It had been sitting outside my front door this morning.  Tripping over it, on the way to work… I at first thought it was a frigging bomb, and it was only after several minutes of calm, rational thoughts, before I could pick it up.

 

At first I thought that was my first mistake, only to quickly discover how wrong I really was. 

 

Not having time (already late) I irrationally decided to go back into the house, unwrap the package and see what it was.

 

That was 15 minutes ago – or back then… 15 minutes from now. 

 

The feeling I felt unwrapping that brown paper remains mine and mine alone, simply because it’s indescribable.  When I unwrapped everything down to the bare essentials and discovered an old tape recorder… I felt like puking.  Pushing the play button felt like the stupidest thing I’d done in a long time, but the words that followed 

 

-         were like drumbeats in the jungle –

 

A jungle full of wild beasts, bad dreams and the devil himself. 

 

And following those words ---- I inverted everything life could possibly throw my way and felt the emptiness of everything I’d previously thought of as real, as I shook hands with Inversion itself, and settled in for a long, long, comfortable ride in a jungle no longer that.   Now,,, a beautiful forest with natural waterfalls, and full of birds….singing.  So amazing was my ride I forgot to remember that it wasn’t real, and was condemned to believing it to be real, when it never was. 

 

Such is our predicament now as we seek to find solid ground, knowing that Inversion is likely… truth hidden behind lies.... all these years.

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I am the nowhere man.  No… I don’t have anything to do with, nor to say about J. Lennon, or the song he sung about me, and I don’t know about the 27^th Chapter, and I didn’t spring from his, or anyone else’s imagination; I am the nowhere man.

 

I walk the beach every morning from 5 a.m. till the sun finally rises, and then I cook fish for breakfast.

 

You search for me … but I’m nowhere, for I am the nowhere man.

 

After breakfast I sleep in a cave, while you search for the nowhere man.

 

When the sun is at it’s highest I come out and stretch, and usually go for a swim.

 

You seek me for the answer to your puzzle.  It’s the number 32 that is your puzzle.

 

Those 2 little numbers, and puzzle on top of puzzle, have you hanging around.

 

I’m getting a little tired of the clowns… sans the music.

 

After my swim, I take a nap while you lap up recent sightings of the nowhere man.

 

You want answers to your questions; questions without answers, yet… still you seek me, but can’t find me.

 

I’m running hard.  Running blind through a dark alley, and you’re on my but… but you can’t catch me because I’m nowhere to be found.

 

After my nap I get on the computer and blog till I grow weary of the games, and turn it … off, leaving you nowhere while you look for me.

 

Actually you know me better than you know your neighbor, but fail to see me at all, for I am the nowhere man.

 

32 is full circle.  You can see the circle but not the fullness of the circle …

 

One day about a year ago, you rubbed dirt from a window in a circular motion and through that circle of clean; you looked in and saw me… looking back at you.  Fear at finding the object of your search sat you back on your haunches and while you reeled I ran, and you’ve not seen me since.

 

Now, time is running out, and while 32 means nothing to you, and the circle round the moon haunts your very soul, I can only sigh, and watch old movies on my television with the crooked antenna.

 

…and as I sit here watching Gilligan’s Island munching on my ham sandwich supper, I think about those days not so long ago when you chased me up and down the streets of the city, cursing your own timidity when upon finally finding me you reeled and I ran.